


You came home to me

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Gen, Reimbodiment, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2501675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros, reimbodied in Valinor, finally sees his mother again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You came home to me

Maedhros knocked on the door with his right hand, the feel of the wood strange and sharp against his knuckles, almost jarring.

“Come in.”

The sound of her muffled voice sent a bolt of something through him, setting his stomach to fluttering, absurdly nervous all of a sudden. He took a breath.

She was standing by the window looking outwards when he opened the door, but she turned as he entered the room. She was in her work clothes, but she had not been working; her hair was not tied back but fell loose across her shoulders and there was no stone dust on her hands, which were clenched together in front of her, knuckles white.

“Amil” he said weakly, as he met her gaze, so familiar it sent a stab of concentrated emotion through him, a lifetime of memories all rushing over him at once.  _A different lifetime._

She blinked, a hesitant smile touching the edges of her mouth, seeming unable to speak for a moment. “ _Maitimo…?”_

“Yes, Amil. Yes, it’s me.”

And then, as quickly as that, they were in each other’s arms, their hair – almost the exact same shade of red, but not quite – mingling between them as she held him fiercely, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Maitimo, Maitimo, my darling boy, you came back to me…” the words tumbled from her mouth, falling over one another.

“Yes” he said, his voice husky, and he realised there were tears in his eyes. “Amil, while I was… while I was dead, I thought I’d never see you again. I was trapped, and it was dark, and I thought they would keep me there forever…” he sounded like a child, he knew, seeking comfort. His mother held him tighter.

“I know” she said, drawing back at last and looking at him appraisingly, reaching up to touch his cheek as though to make sure he were real. “I thought  _I_  would never see  _you_  again, dear heart. I thought they would never let you go, and you hear such awful stories in Tirion these days…” she looked him in the eye once more, her gaze questioning.

“Probably true” he said, with a heavy sigh. “Amil - ”

“I know what you did” she said. “And your brothers. I still love you, don’t worry about that, Maitimo. Never fear that I would not, do you hear me?”

She stood on tiptoe and he stooped a little to let her press a kiss to his brow. She took both of his hands in her own, turning them over and looking at the palms, holding them tightly. Then she looked up at him again, eyes flickering over the lines of his new face, still unfamiliarly smooth and unlined to him when he looked in the mirror.  _No scars. The face of the boy who had left Aman, the one who had died in the dark, a thousand deaths and then a thousand more in the years that followed. The face of a stranger._

“I had heard” she said, drawing in a shuddering, steadying breath as she took in his face, his hands, “that you suffered cruelly. That you bore the marks for all the years that followed. Your hand…” she traced the lines of his palm, and kissed his knuckles.

“I have two hands once more now, although I am… unused to it still.” He grimaced. “But I am glad you were spared the sight of me as I looked then, Amil.”

“Oh Maitimo. I wish I had been there for you. All of you, bleeding and suffering across the sea, for your Oath and your love for your father, for the light and for each other. I heard things sometimes… terrible things…”

He felt a familiar upwelling of shame, cold and sickening. “Amil, what I became, at the end…”

“I know” she said. “I know, I know. I will never stop loving you though, do you understand that? Same with your brothers. Eru help me, I would have doomed myself to that darkness in your place, every day you were away from me anew, if I possibly could have. I would have counted the price cheap, if only it could have made any difference.” She shook her head. “One wrong choice, that was all it took. I should have never left you. I see that now. I let my grievances with Fëanáro stand in the way of what I should have been doing, which was keeping my sons on the right path, and looking after you all. Or if not that, then to be there at your side when it all went wrong.” She sighed. “Maitimo, your brothers…”

“I don’t know when… if… they are to be released.” His voice was full of regret, but then he smiled wanly. “They only considered my case because Findekáno was so insistent.”

She nodded. “Keep him close.”

“I mean to, if he will have me. But Amil” his voice was pained. “You must know, none of my brothers are likely to be released any time soon. There is blood on all our hands. So much blood.”

“Námo has promised to return the twins to me, and perhaps Moryo, in time. Also, Tyelpë is back in Tirion already.” She sighed regretfully, and frowned. “Of Tyelko and Curvo, I hold out less hope. But Maitimo, I must ask… what of Macalaurë? I have simply heard nothing. It’s almost as if…”

“As if he’s not in the Halls of waiting?” He swallowed. “He’s not, Amil. He… he chose to stay behind. To live, in pain and regret.”

“ _Stay?_ ”

He nodded gravely. “It was the guilt, I think. I was selfish; I left him there. I often think that I took the coward’s way out - ”

“No, Maitimo.” Her voice was firm. “Don’t you ever say that. But Macalaurë…”

He shrugged helplessly, feeling the tears come once more. “The others at least… I know what happened to them. What they did. I felt their  _fëar_  brush mine in the Halls, felt them burning in the dark. But Macalaurë… I don’t know, Amil. I’m sorry but I don’t know.”

“Oh Maitimo.” She let out a quiet sob. “You were so strong, for so long. You protected them.”

“Not well enough. They all died in the end, aside from Macalaurë, and he is lost. And I should have stopped them from killing, should have found another way, but I couldn’t Amil, there was no other option but to follow the Oath to the bitter conclusion, and all that time I  _knew_ , Amil… I knew what I was doing and that it was wrong, but there was no other way” he gritted his teeth, feeling frustration course through him once more. He hung his head forwards, looking at the ground, so that his loose hair fell over his eyes. “Sorry. I will go now, if you like.”

After a scant moment, his mother was sweeping the fall of hair back off his face. “Maitimo” she said gently. “Look at me. You’re here with me now, and I will not let them take you away from me. Not again.”

He felt a surge of relief at the raw affection in her eyes, although he knew he did not deserve it. “Yes, Amil.”

“I love you, Maitimo.”

“I love you too.”

She regarded him for a moment, thoughtfully. “Now come. You need to rest; I’ve heard it’s exhausting being back in the world.” She gently but firmly propelled him down into a chair by the hearth. “How about you let me make you some of that spiced tea you always liked, hmm? And you can tell me of the good things. For there must have been some?”

He considered this for a moment. “Well, yes. Yes there were, sometimes.”

She busied herself with the iron kettle over the fire. “I’m listening.”


End file.
